


The Man Behind the Curtain

by Barckas95



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 18:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20086891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barckas95/pseuds/Barckas95
Summary: Are you sure that everything is as it seems?





	The Man Behind the Curtain

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, bad english.  
I tried to rewrite my text in English

Two walked along the corridors of the center of veterans. Staci Pratt walked confidently ahead. Cautiously, Jacob Seed was following him. 

— Are you sure no one is inside? Just outside? — Jacob asked excitedly.  
— I am sure. — Staci resolutely answered, rubbing a fresh wound on his face.

The wound was not as sick as itching more. He cut himself, and set abrasions himself - to play like that. If play a role, then for real

— Run away for the first-aid kit, lively. I'll be waiting for you at headquarters. When you come - treat my face. Got it? — commands Pratt.  
— Alright, alright, already running — Jacob really, almost ran, followed her.

Staci, reaching the headquarters, sat on the sofa. Sighed. Finally, he can be himself. The role of the victim tired him. Yes, and Jacob was sometimes difficult to play. He almost broke a couple of times - He began to play his role very badly. For what he deservedly received punches. Staci has repeatedly thought how probably this looks funny - how such a small “man” like him drags the hair of a huge man. And he lies at his feet and begs for mercy. Grinned to himself - imagining it from the side.

Finally, Jacob came with a first aid kit - immediately began to treat wounds and abrasions.

— How did I play today? I have been preparing for a long time. Good?  
— Excellent. Just excellent.

Pratt was pleased with himself. He played excellently. A few years ago joined the law enforcement agencies. He pretended to be what he is not. Then he flew by himself - and he himself crashed the helicopter. True, in the helicopter he was really scared - he was afraid to die. Fortunately, he did it. People that flew with him did not notice the catch. Naive simpletons - not knew its honor. They were flying with a very big shot in the cult.

— Treated. Can I get you anything else?  
— Bring me some coffee, with cream.

His type "gave" Jacob. Further - like he "tortured" him. In fact, he himself broke his face. For others to think that Jacob is a beast - and mocked him. He chuckled to himself again.

— Your coffee. Anything else? — shyly asks Jacob.  
— Yes, Jacob. I want you to massage my legs. Feet. Such a hard day …

A little scared, Jacob kneels before him. He takes off his shoes, socks - and begins to do massage. Pratt is drinking coffee, watching how he works. Funny, he thinks. It's funny that no one knows that Jacob can't do shit. A shell-shocked soldier who catches suddenly a panic attack. With constant depression. Sometimes freaks out and guns even in the hands can not take - echo of war. The war broke him, made him a whiner and a sissy. Oh, and they would have heard him yelling at night from constant nightmares. They would have heard him shake every time from the explosions… They would have seen how, before the planned helicopter crash, they had pre-pumped it with tranquilizers - to from claps, in panic — not rushed far eyes look. You would understand then yourself - who would be the first to go to cull. And no, he is not strong - not at all. Just a broken soldier. Just a cover.

— Massage higher now, caviar. There is simply no strength.

He obediently obeys the order. After 20 minutes, Pratt got tired of this case. And he decided to kick that one in the head. Thought. Would see others, as this soldier here crawling on his belly, his tail between his legs, would never have believed - that it's real. That the region’s nightmare is not a nightmare at all. More like a defenseless kitten. Well, a very big kitten, aggressively looking, but a kitten.  
Kitty…

— Do you want to sit on my lap? In honor of such a day I will permit. — having finished his coffee and putting it on the floor, says Staci.  
— Can i? I would appreciate.

He carefully sits on his knees. It certainly looks... strange. Stacy likes power over Jacob - especially since he has it. He is several tens of kilograms heavier, and much higher - but Pratt likes it terribly. Like - when he sits on his lap. Feels like he is shaking. Out of fear - before Staci.

— You're my kitten, Jacob. Red house cat. Only on the sofa do you want to wallow. Yes to eat once again. Purring on your knees. And nothing else is needed - true? — Staci strokes his head.   
— Yes ... No need …  
— Nothing, you will fulfill your role - I’ll send you to rest. I always keep my promises. Not in the sense that I’ll kill you - and just stop playing this show.  
— Thank you, I will be very grateful to you …

Staci smiled at him. He kissed him on the cheek.  
Thought — that people would fell into shock if she found out that Joseph is also a pawn.  
And the real head of the cult and the leader of all this is Faith.  
And God forbid, they recognize her - the real one.


End file.
